


Just Say the Word

by JudeAraya



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2009!phan, Comfort, Fluffy too though, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst, based on irl tweets, dan is much teenage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JudeAraya/pseuds/JudeAraya
Summary: "He wanted to press this one into the memory book; to know that someone as amazing as Phil had loved him so much, once upon a time, and that Dan had, despite all of his broken pieces, loved him back."~*~A 2009 fic about needing a hug
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 27
Kudos: 92
Collections: phandomficfests: a softer world





	Just Say the Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chiridotalaevis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiridotalaevis/gifts).



> Inspired by this panel by A Softer World, this fic is a belated birthday present to [Natasha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiridotalaevis/pseuds/chiridotalaevis).  
> Here's a hug from me to you! 
> 
> [](https://imgur.com/oKhOUcV)
> 
> Thank you to Daye, Puddle and Jane for the vibe checks and hand holding!!

[ ](https://imgur.com/guCV3EM)  


Phil: _So_

Dan: _yea_

Phil: _hi_

Dan laughed and shook his head, speed dialing Phil. He answered within the first ring; it was dumb but Phil’s eagerness to talk to Dan always settled warm and bright in Dan’s chest. He’d never had that before. Sometimes he rang Phil just to see how fast he would answer. Dan hoarded these bright moments, greedy for the little things that lit him up that no one else would notice. 

“Hi,” Phil said. He spoke softly. 

“You busy?” 

“No, just sitting in my room.” 

“You all right?” Dan asked. 

“Yeah. Just. Um. Thinking.” 

Dan smiled, a little smug but also a little shy. He was glad Phil couldn’t see him then. Last night had been...something. He’d been tired and yeah, maybe that made him extra impulsive. Still, with Phil’s eyes so hot on his, his words painting a picture of exactly his hands and mouth would be doing if they were together, just how dirty they’d gotten felt almost inevitable. With screens between them and a desire to be with Phil burning through every part of him, Dan had felt like another person. More confident, more brave. 

Dan had woken up the next morning—well afternoon really—and gasped in a disbelieving laugh as soon as he remembered the night before. Who was this boy Phil turned him into? 

“About?” Dan responded. He was aiming for flirty; he’d been so bold the night before, he didn’t want Phil to think he had regrets or anything. He didn’t. It was all just...new. 

“Last night,” Phil said with something in his voice that gave Dan pause.

“Was it bad or-did you no—”

“— _No!_ No, not bad!” Phil said quickly. “I mean, not for me. I don’t feel—I just, I don’t know. I didn’t want you to think I pushed you.”

“ _Phil_.” Dan bit down a laugh. “I’m pretty sure I started it. Although…”

“Although?” Phil prompted, sounding a little less unsure. 

“I mean I could blame your eyes.” Dan scrunched up his face and buried it in his pillow as soon as the words came out. How utterly _cheesy_.

“Mm, tell me more about that,” Phil said. There was a rustling and a squeak and Dan knew from hours and hours of listening to every little sound he could when they were on the phone that Phil was lying on his bed. 

“Shut up.” 

“ _Da-an_ ,” Phil whined. Phil didn’t mind when Dan was cheesy or too sweet or brash or loud or insecure. Phil didn’t hold back any of those things either. Sometimes Dan felt more exposed by these moments, and these words, than he had doing the kinds of things they’d done the night before. Not that things had ever gone _that_ far before. It was still true though. He exhaled; it was shaky and he knew Phil would know that there were a lot of words trapped in his brain and too many really big feelings stuck in his chest. 

Dan always thought that the way he felt things, how overwhelmed or overcome he became, meant he was overdramatic or attention seeking and just generally Too Much. 

Phil said he loved the ways Dan felt so much. That he knew how honest and genuine Dan’s emotions were because he couldn’t hold them back. He said this about being in love and about how much Dan wanted him. Phil said this even about the hard things, the times when Dan was depressed or angry. Phil always wished he could be with Dan, but he never had to guess what Dan was feeling. 

Which was different, for Dan, because he'd always felt things this way, but no one had ever really seen this as anything other than Too Much. Maybe because Dan never let anyone in enough; maybe it was because Phil just saw him so well. Or all of the above. 

None of which changed how shocked Dan was sometimes by how vulnerable he’d made himself to another person, and how even those scary bits were perfect, with Phil. 

“Can you Skype?” Dan asked. A moment ago he’d been glad Phil couldn’t see the play of emotions on his face, and now, words weren’t enough. Whenever words weren’t enough, as long as he could see Phil’s face, Dan knew he would be okay. 

“Yeah, sure. Lemme go run to the loo first and I’ll call you.” 

“‘Kay.” 

Dan grabbed some water and his bear and his laptop and settled on his bed, propped against the wall. His hair was a mess but definitely not the good kind. He fluffled and tugged until it was almost the kind of messy he wanted. When he heard the familiar chime of an incoming call, Dan couldn’t have held back the smile it elicited if he tried. He thought he might always associate that noise with only the best things for the rest of his life. 

“Hey, you,” Phil said, his gorgeous face filling the screen. He was leaning in close, like he did when he was really trying to read Dan. Or just...watching like he had last night. 

Dan buried his face behind his bear, hoping to hide the giveaway red patches splotching his skin. 

“Hi.” 

Phil’s half smile said as much as Dan’s skin. The difference was that he wasn’t afraid to show Dan his uncertainty. 

“It’s okay,” Dan rushed to say. “I mean, last night. Everything. It’s just...new. I’ve never done anything like that. I kind of can’t believe I did.”

“We did,” Phil corrected with one arched brow. Dan wanted to bite it. Not hard, but just to feel Phil close. To touch and give attention to every part of him, especially ones that maybe no one else had ever really noticed. Not that he’d ever tell anyone. He could probably tell Phil if he really wanted without being judged. Phil tended to speak through strange touch when he was having a lot of feelings too, and biting was one of them.

“Last night was...” Dan started. He closed his eyes and let himself think of Phil. He’d been so caught up in the whole _that happened_ mindfuck he hadn’t even let himself wallow in what Phil had looked like. How he’d sounded. How low and sure he was every time he asked Dan for more. How he kept his eyes on the screen even as he came, gasping Dan’s name the whole time. 

The memory was pretty scorching. Something he’d press into the pages of a mental memory book. 

Moments like those fit right along every heartbreakingly sweet or loving memory he’d held on to. Speaking to Phil for the first time, coming with his name on his lips, the way Phil’s face scrunched up whenever Dan made him laugh so hard he cried—they were all something Dan needed to hold on to. 

It was all really fucking lovely and Dan was so much fucking softer than he’d ever dreamed he could be. 

“I miss you,” Phil said. Dan opened his eyes. Phil was laying on his side, laptop on the pillow next to his. Dan pretended for a moment that it was him, there, head next to Phil’s, close enough to touch. 

“D’you ever feel like…” Dan swallowed and shrugged. He lay down too, face buried in a pillow he wished smelled like Phil. A longing that had nothing to do with sex, but everything to do with the _kind_ sex they’d had last night, the kind Dan would never have had with anyone but Phil, squeezed his chest, hard. 

“Yeah,” Phil whispered. 

Distantly, Dan heard a door slam, and shortly after, his mother calling his name. 

“Fuck, I think I have to go,” he said regretfully. “Mum needs me.” 

“We’ll talk tonight though?” Phil asked. 

“Of course.” Dan touched the computer screen without meaning to, then laughed at himself. Phil did the same and the laughter died down. 

Dan cleared his throat and shot Phil a smile before logging off. His heart was pounding and his voice uneven when he called back down to his mum. He trotted downstairs and dutifully went along with her to the store, then helped her put away the food. He listened to her chatter about work. Which was weird because she was rarely this chatty with him any more. Probably because he'd made himself so emotionally unavailable, both to her and the rest of his family.

He’d had so many secrets to keep and so many big, silenced feelings and until Phil, he’d had no real outlet for them. He’d held them in, and held himself back, and felt every moment when his parents didn’t _see_ so keenly it ached. In another world, in another home, in a place where things weren’t so tense and fucked up there might have been room for his feelings. Dan might be a different boy in that world. Everything else would be fucked outside of their home but maybe at least _in_ it he’d feel safe. 

He wished he could tell his mum things, sometimes. 

He wished his mum and dad had wanted him. 

He thought about what it meant that they hadn’t. Sometimes, when things were at their worst, Dan was sure that if they really knew him, they wouldn’t want him at all. 

Whenever they berated him for hiding away in his room, for being unfocused, all he could think about was how that fear took shape, ballooning in his heart and chest and mind until he could barely breathe, much less be calm or rational or engaged. And now—now he had Phil. Phil who saw, and who wanted Dan to talk about these things—not just the good things. He didn’t want Dan just for the sexy things or even the funny ones. 

Dan had worked hard in the beginning to be the person he thought Phil might like. After a while, though, it became exhausting. When their calls got longer and longer, as he learned Phil’s face and how expressive it could be, Dan yearned to drop the mask he’d created. When he realized that somehow, he and Phil _fit_. That real Dan, not the one he thought Phil wanted, had a _person_ in Phil. The best moment of Dan’s life—well okay one of them—was the day he confessed this to Phil. He’d imagined Phil yelling, or even not wanting to be his friend anymore. Because that’s what they’d been then, just friends. Friends heavily leaning on potential, sure. Friends hard up against _more_. A breath from a fall. 

But Phil had simply given him his quiet smile, one of the most private Phil smiles, and said, “I know.” 

“Are you mad?” Dan had asked. 

“No,” Phil assured him. “I’m...this is so cheesy, ugh. I can tell you’re not, like, comfortable being open. Or you. With people. So it’s, like. This is the best feeling actually.” 

“Daniel,” his mum said, startling him out of his thoughts. He was standing, unmoving, in the middle of the kitchen, holding a carton of eggs. “Are you with me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He knew it was snappish but couldn’t help himself. 

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.” She sighed and took the eggs from him. 

“ _God_ , Mum.” 

“Dan,” she said, a little softer. She closed the refrigerator and put a hand on his arm. “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” he said, and shrugged her hand off. 

She turned away. “Have you done any revising today?” she asked. For a split second he wished he hadn’t pushed her away. Kindness was better than this, than the constant reminders of how much of a failure he was, how lazy he was, how he was letting them down. 

“No.” 

“You said yesterday—” 

“I know,” he interrupted. “I’ll do it, all right?” 

“When?” She turned around, brushing her hair over her shoulders as she leaned against the counter. Their small kitchen felt so much smaller with her eyes on him like this. Assessing his weaknesses, searching for his lies. 

“I have work tomorrow. I’ll to it tonight. Later,” he said, wishing he were anywhere else but here. Wishing he’d not responded to her, that he were still talking to Phil. 

“Your father’s going to ask at dinner. You know this. If you could just—you know it’ll cause a row.” 

“Oh, and that’s my fault is it?” Tension rolled through his body, pulling his muscles tight. 

“Well, if you’d do it—”

“Maybe I would, if you’d all stop fucking pressuring me! The more you push it feels—” 

“ _Daniel._ Language.” 

Dan bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood. Of- _fucking_ -course. Of course all she heard was his _language_ and never his _words_. Not the anxious, pleading part of him that just wanted their support, wanted something unconditional. Not the scared kid who felt really alone. Who was so terrified of failing again, of failing them, he couldn’t even bring himself to start. 

“You know what, this isn’t—forget it.” He spun on his heel and thundered up the stairs, ignoring her calls to come back. He closed his door and locked it. His room was a small mess. It was raining, of course, and the brown walls did nothing to combat the gloom of a grey day. He didn’t turn on his light; he deliberately avoided looking toward his desk and the pile of revision materials he had been ignoring all along.

Dan flopped face first on his bed and fisted his duvet in his hands. He closed his eyes and refused to let any tears fall, even when they burned and burned. He wanted so much more. To be anywhere else, to be someone else. No amount of wishing could make that true and he knew it. He couldn’t be with Phil either, not right now, not really. Even though what they had was bigger than the space separating them, a computer screen was a shit obstacle to overcome. No matter how close they were through it, it wasn’t the same as being together. 

But at least it had brought them together. Dan wasn’t completely alone now. 

Of all the things they did together on Skype—playing, laughing, Dan crying too much like a fucking dumbass, even having sex—there was one thing they couldn’t do. One thing Dan needed so, so much. 

Dan: _I need hug_

Phil: _ >——(^_^)——< _

Dan thumbed through their texts, scrolling back as far as he could for all the times Phil had sent him hugs, or kisses, or kind words. A rogue tear tracked down his cheek. He didn’t brush it away. The big feelings were okay, with Phil. Maybe, sometimes, Dan could let himself be okay with them. Just a little. He knew Phil was busy right then, and that they’d speak later that night. Maybe one day this moment would mean nothing. He’d forget it. He’d forget so many moments. A very small part of him dreamed of some future where there was so much good he wouldn’t have to ever think of these things again, this part of his life, this person he was. 

He opened his twitter app. He wanted to press this one into the memory book; to know that someone as amazing as Phil had loved him so much, once upon a time, and that Dan had, despite all of his broken pieces, loved him back.

[](https://imgur.com/dYMWHFp)

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, you can [reblog](https://judearaya.tumblr.com/post/611334488863145984/fic-just-say-the-word-phan) on tumblr and I'll <3 forever!


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